Codename: UNCLE
by Kaelyxta
Summary: "It's so strange." "What is?" "The school year is almost over. Only, what, 3 months left? We won't be coming back in September anymore." "It will be a bit sad I suppose." The floor rumbled again as the staircases realigned themselves. "But you'll still have me. And Cowboy." Gaby turned around and smiled at Illya. "You're right. It'll just be another adventure."
1. The First Note

**Author's Note:** Pen name will change from Wings of the Night to **Kaelyxta**. More details at the end.

* * *

"Illya, watch out!"

Unfazed, Illya leaned to the right with his book still in front of his face when a bludger whizzed past him where his head used to be and buried itself into the seats just behind him. Before the bludger could dig itself out of its hole, Illya's free hand shot out. His large hand easily covered most of the ball, preventing its escape. His book never wavered.

A figure soared through the sky towards the blonde, green robes and a mop of dark hair billowing behind him. When the broom and its rider hovered within ten feet of Illya, the blonde lifted his hand and allowed the bludger to dart towards the other male. Amidst the sounds of surprise and the wind being knocked out of the other figure, Illya drawled out his greeting.

"Cowboy."

"What'd you do that for?" Napoleon exclaimed, his gloved hands now wrapped securely around the wriggling bludger in front of his stomach.

Illya peeked over the top of his book to scowl at the American.

"You should watch where you play." He growled out, his Russian accent thickening with his irritation.

"I didn't even hit this blasted thing! For Merlin's sake, I'm the seeker!" Napoleon replied indignantly.

"But that is your team, is it not?" Illya closed the book and stood whilst Napoleon spluttered his defence.

"I will wait for you in the library -"

"Wait at the Great Hall instead, Peril - we're almost done training anyway." At this Napoleon turned his broom around, and with a powerful throw sent the bludger back towards his team's beaters, taking them off-guard. "Get Gaby too, won't you - I should be able to change out of my gear by then."

With a sigh the blonde acquiesced.

"Fine, you better not keep us waiting for long though, Solo."

With a sloppy salute and a smirk, the Slytherin turned sharply back towards his teammates.

Illya idly tightened his red and gold scarf as he watched Napoleon leave, his eyes casually skims the figure he cuts as he sped across the sky. He would never admit it to his friend, lest his ego become even more inflated than it already is, but Napoleon has a flare about him that can make even the baggiest, clunkiest and sweatiest Quidditch gear look good. Suddenly, the Slytherin dove sharply. The Russian wasn't too concerned though, recognising the set in his shoulders and the look on his face. Sure enough, Napoleon's hand stretched out and snatched something golden Illya couldn't see before until it was safely in the seeker's hand.

Aware that he's becoming distracted, Illya tugged on his flat cap and left the stands, muttering a quick _Reparo_ at the broken seats behind him. He'll drop his book off back at the dorm, then pick up Gaby from her tower, and if he walked slowly enough Napoleon might be on time...

* * *

Napoleon rounded his team up, all of whom were restless for the last half hour anyway, eager to go to Hogsmede with the rest of their cohorts. He could see Illya leaving in his peripherals and lamented that the days in April are still chilly enough for warmer clothing. He could barely make out the shape of the tall blonde's behind-

"Oi, Solo, can we go yet or not? It's been hours!" McKinnon whined.

Rolling his eyes, the captain rounded on the chaser, a fresh-faced third year with a serious case of Trust-fund baby syndrome (not that a good portion of Slytherins are not the same).

"The performance today was horrendous! Especially you, McKinnon! Watch where you're passing the Quaffle to, or better yet, learn to throw. I would've benched you if Silverknot hasn't gotten herself detention for the next month." Napoleon stared hard at the little upstart until he wilted down into his broomseat. "The match with Hufflepuff is in two weeks after the Easter Break everyone - I don't care how easy you think it is to beat them, I want top points for a chance at the Cup, and I swear on the grave of Salazaar himself, if we lost to a bunch of Badgers there'll be hell to pay, you hear me?"

Napoleon waited until everyone in his team looked sufficiently cowed. Charismatic he may be, but no one messes with him when it's to do with money or Quidditch. His punishments are legendarily humiliating, and it doesn't help that he wields the power of Head Boy on top of it (no one's dumb enough to call out on his abuse of powers either). "Alright, dismissed."

His team scampered. Napoleon took his broom down to the ground at a more sedate pace, playing with the shiny Snitch still in his hand. He wondered what he should get for his friend in Hogsmede. There's only two other Hogsmede weekend left before the school year's over - and since the blonde's going back to Russia to visit his mother for summer as usual, meaning the only chance he can give the gift for his friend's July birthday is before they graduate. Not to mention there's this lock picking set he's had his eyes on at Dervish & Banges - not that it's any use, having been charmed to sword fight between the pieces and melt any lock shut that you insert the picks in. After all, there's no real need for lock picks when a quick _Alohamora_ would do the trick, and for the more tenacious locks that guards against that spell, the Open-All-Keys - while not illegal - is restricted to Aurors and heavily regulated. But if he could reverse engineer the charms, and have Gaby help him tweak it a bit...

Feet hitting solid ground, he swung off his broomstick (the latest _Nimbus_ series - hey, he's got the means, why not use it?), and trudged towards the locker rooms. The change area is empty, lockers left half-open with equipment stored haphazardly by the eager students to get to their freedom. He quickly changed out of his Quidditch gear and robes, casted a _Tergeo_ to remove the sweat (he doesn't understand why no one else in his team uses this spell, but considering how half the boy's dormitories looks and smells like a pigsty, he shouldn't be surprised), and folded the clothes neatly into his knapsack. He decided to forgo his usual shower, decided that Illya would probably pitch a sullen fit if he's much later than he already is, gritted his teeth and endured a _Terego_ on himself. The effect made his skin feel extra dry, but at least he's clean. Reaching back into his pack, he took out his change of clothes and dressed. Trousers on, white collared shirt buttoned, navy waistcoat done up, finished with his robe in an even darker blue and his cashmere grey scarf, Napoleon deemed himself ready and headed out the locker rooms towards the Great Hall.

* * *

"Teller, Kuryakin is here for you." Amy said from the open doorway of Gaby's dorm room. "And tell him to stop getting into our tower would you?"

Gaby stood from her bed where she was sitting cross-legged with a book and laughed.

"No promises about that. I'll be down in a moment."

Orange. She decided. She feels like wearing orange today. She took off her over-sized shirt and shorts she stole from Illya and Napoleon respectively that served as her pyjamas and grabbed a dress that was lying on top of her trunk. Stepping into it and a pair of stockings, she squinted at the mirror. The dress stopped around mid-thigh with a nice polka dot pattern. The only problem was that it was pink. A wave of her wand (a sturdy cedar with unicorn core at 10.5"), and the dots went bright orange. Considering her reflection, she changed her stockings from grey to a soft orange too. Satisfied, she grabbed a robe with a fluffy collar for the chill still in the air and went downstairs.

Illya was wearing his signature black turtle neck shirt, plain grey trousers, his grey cap and house scarf with no jacket in sight. Sometimes she had to marvel at his incredible ability to withstand the cold. He stood stiffly in front of the bookshelves which Gaby knew housed a selection of classic wizarding literature, trying and seemingly failing to pay no heed of the giggling group of younger girls behind him. Not that she's terribly surprised. She could personally attest to the insane number of fan girls that's enamoured with both the charming Head Boy and the tall Gryffindor Prefect, and had been dragged along to numerous 'gatherings' to be grilled on since she's been deemed the closest to the pair. There were also those that houses less than benign intentions - though they soon realised that crossing her was a mistake.

"Amy wanted me to tell you to stop getting into our tower." Gaby greeted the Russian with a smile.

"If the eagle would give more challenging riddles then I would not be getting in as often." Illya smiled in relief as he turned around, setting a book back in the shelf as he did so. "Cowboy will meet us at the Great Hall- what is that?"

"What?" Gaby blinked in confusion at the Gryffindor's offended face. She followed his gaze down to her legs.

"That," he pointed at her stockings "is a hideous colour."

"Hey!" She pouted. "I like it, I feel like orange today and it matches with my dress!"

Illya rolled his eyes and shook his head in exasperation. "You and Solo, always with your matching... it doesn't have to match." At this, he took out his own wand and gave a casual wave, turning the stockings to an opaque white.

"There, now you don't look much like Halloween also."

Still pouting, Gaby humphed.

" _Verpiss dich_." Gathering her black robes around her, she turned and flounced out the common room and out the tower door, Illya following behind like a big, blonde (and smug) puppy. She wouldn't admit it but the white does look better.

"Did Napoleon say when he'd be meeting us?"

Illya just shrugged unhelpfully. "He did not say. When I left he was wrapping up practice."

Reaching the staircases, the two friends had to stop and wait while the staircases finish making their minds up.

"It's so strange."

Illya started at Gaby's non-sequitur.

"What is?"

"The school year is almost over. Only, what, 3 months left? We won't be coming back in September anymore."

Illya followed her gaze to a portrait nearby. There wasn't much in the painting, only a landscape of a hillside with a horse calmly grazing on the side, its rider nowhere to be seen. If Illya had to guess, the rider's probably off to the portrait of the barkeeper and his bar a few hallways away.

"It will be a bit sad I suppose." The blonde agreed. The floor rumbled again as the staircases realigned themselves. "But you'll still have me. And Cowboy."

Gaby turned around and smiled at Illya. "You're right. It'll just be another adventure."

"Of course I'm right, chop shop girl."

Gaby laughed, mood lightened, took Illya's hand and dragged him down the stairs.

* * *

Illya's foot was tapping impatiently by the time Napoleon strolled into sight.

"What took you so long, Cowboy?"

"Calm down, Peril, nothing wrong with a bit of freshening up!" At this, Napoleon spread his arms wide, gesturing at his torso. "What do you think? Got this lovely waistcoat the last time I was in London!"

The Gryffindor rolled his eyes and started walking towards the Entrance Hall, completely ignoring the other male.

Giving an exaggerated pout, Napoleon turned to the Ravenclaw. "Gaby, tell me I look dashing and handsome."

Shaking her head fondly, Gaby took the Slytherin's arm and guided him after the Russian. "Yes, yes, dashing and... whatever."

"You could at least sound more genuine!"

They got their names ticked off by the sour-faced Apollyon Pringle - the caretaker squinted hard at Napoleon to which he tried to look as innocent as he could - before continuing down the grounds, out the gates and into Hogsmede.

In the bright light of day, the village looked cheery with students milling about the town square and shops, enjoying the day out in the village before some have to go back home for the Easter holidays. They went through their usual haunts - first Honeydukes (Glacial Snow Flakes for Illya, Sugar Quill for Gaby and Honeyduke's Toffees for Napoleon), then to Zonko's to mess around (or more specifically, Gaby did - Napoleon unwilling to get his clothes dirty from random explosions and Illya just didnt have the interest), Tomes & Scrolls (where both Napoleon and Gaby had to drag Illya back out), Gladrags Wizardwear (which they only left after Gaby's copious amount of complaining while the boys keep getting her to try on different outfits), and finally, The Three Broomsticks.

As Illya opened the inn door, the welcoming warmth wasn't the only thing that greeted him. He swayed back a bit when a smaller form walked right into him, the boy's forehead smacking into his chest. The head of flaming red hair confirmed his identity.

"Mr. Weasley."

Startled blue eyes peered up at him. He was tall and lanky for a third year, his face honest and open with a light dusting of freckles across his cheeks, which was fast turning into the same colour as his hair in embarrassment. He scrambled backwards.

"Illya - sir - s-sorry! I wasn't looking where I was going!"

Ignoring Napoleon's snickering of "sir?" Illya raised his eyebrow in amusement.

"Clearly. And how are you? Where is your better half?"

"W-well, sir. Ah, she's just-" He broke off with a flinch as a hand abruptly smacked his shoulder in admonishment.

"Arthur!" A much shorter figure with an equally red hed of a slightly different hue appeared next to them. "I've been looking everywhere for you! You're not causing the Prefect any trouble now, are you?"

"Ow, Molly!" Arthur all but whined, rubbing the sore spot.

"Now, now, Ms. Prewett, no need to come to that." Napolean popped up from behind Illya and flashed a smile at the flustered girl. "Good to see you in such high spirits however!"

Molly mumbled something unintelligible and dragged Arthur off, who parted with a hasty "Have a good day, sir!"

"Well, aren't they cute." Gaby smiled after them as the paid hurried out the door.

"What's with the 'sir'?" Napoleon asked as they strolled up to the bar.

"It is a habit Mr. Weasley failed to break from his first year."

"With how tall you already were in your fifth year, Peril, I'm not surprised you scared most of the younger years into obeying you."

"I can neither confirm nor deny."

"No wonder the Gryffindor first to third years are so polite whenever Illya's around!" Gaby laughed. "They're usually little hellions. Slytherins too, actually."

"Hey! I resent that!""You know it's true, Napoleon." Gaby smirked and flagged down the bar maid. "Three of Ogden's finest!"

The bar maid squinted at Gaby. "I know Head Boy there be 17 already, not sure about you though, missy. Or you, Blondie."

"Of course we're 17 now, wouldn't be asking for it if we weren't!" The Ravenclaw chirped while lying through her teeth. "And it's the holidays now, Mary, let us have a bit of fun."

"Hmph." Mary the bar maid slid 3 glasses across to them. "Just this once. I'm still not convinced, mind."

"Ta, my dear." Napoleon slapped the required coins on the counter, and leaned in to give the witch a playful peck on her cheek.

"Pah, go on you rascals." Mary harrumphed once more good naturedly and waved them off with her rag.

Armed with firewhiskey, the three found a table and huddled in.

"Cheers to the break, gents!" Gaby clinked glasses with the other two before downing hers in one go.

"What break? We'll be drowned in homework and NEWTs preparation!" Napoleon scoffed, and sipped his whiskey at a more sedate pace. Illya grunted in agreement.

"Oh, please, let's not pretend all of us haven't finished all of our homework already."

"...True."

"And since we now have nothing to do over the break-"

"Revise?" Illya suggested dryly, his drink already gone.

"Oh please, like any of us need any serious revision - we just need some cramming last minute and we'll be good to go."

"Also true." Napoleon screwed up his courage and downed the rest of the firewhiskey, determined not to be outdone by the other two.

"As I was saying - since we now have nothing to do over the break, why don't we come over to my place in London?" Gaby kept her eyes wide and innocent with a smile plastered on her face (though it is genuine). Neither of the boys were fooled though. Illya narrowed his eyes at her, ice blue eyes considering.

"All right, spill it chop shop girl, what is it?"

"What? You've been by my place before!"

"Gaby." Napoleon gave her a look. The 'we-both-know-that's-not-the-truth-so-let's-not-do-this' look.

"Ugh, fine." Gaby threw her hands up and blew an exasperated breath out. "It's Uncle Waverly. He wants the both of you to visit."

Dark brows shot up sky high in disbelief. "Waverly. He wants us," - at this he pointed between himself and Illya - "to visit" - fingers mimicking walking - " _him_?" - and points at something far away.

"Hey! What are you trying to say about Uncle Waverly?" The slender girl scowled.

"Just that your uncle who's not your uncle is so British it hurts, hard to believe he'd want us to visit him out of the blue for a _social call_."

Gaby turned to Illya for backup. The tall boy just shrugged in his agreement with the Slytherin. "It is a bit hard to believe."

The scowl didn't last long against the two unimpressed faces she called as friends. She sighed again.

"Oh, fine. I don't know why he wants me to bring you two idiots back for Easter either, he didn't tell me. I suppose we'll just have to find out when we get there."

"Don't we get a say in this?"

"Shut up, Napoleon, you're going."

Illya didn't bother to argue.

* * *

References:

Verpiss dich = Piss off

Inspired by the fanart by bloomsbury posted on tumblr: post/129417137231/well-it-was-bound-to-happen-i-give-you-the-new

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

I'm not dead! Sorry about the…6 year hiatus? *runs* And now I've come up with a totally different story rather than continuing my current ones...

Quick note on my 'All For You' series, I've now formerly put it on Hiatus – I'm still pretty in love with that plot but got a helluva writer's block on it so shelving that for now.

I will also be changing my pen name from **Wings of the Night** to **Kaelyxta** , which is what I use for all other platforms now.

I haven't picked up a pen (more like typed on the laptop as it were) to write a story properly since since around 2009. Life and graduation and uni and work happened. I read heaps of fanfics in the meantime though! I have gone back and edit and add like, one sentence at a time (painfully slow) to All For You. Inspiration suddenly hit me like a freight train after I saw this fanart. It's adorable and cute and I was already on a high after watching the movie and reading so many great fanfics, that I was like - yeah, actually, yeah! Let's go into the untapped market of HP x Man from UNCLE crossover that nobody asked for!

I got so derailed while writing this story after such a long hiatus - I made a timeline for the story (I never do, but made things so much easier for me, so I will be doing that from now on!), and then got sidetracked with more back story that I'd started writing but decided will post it separately because I can't find a good way to work it in this one, and wandered around HP Wikia with research. Like all the research. My timeline looks amazing, seriously.

I mostly agreed with the artist's portrayal of the characters in her fanart with the Houses:

Napoleon's obviously Slytherin - cunning, ambitious, accomplished and intelligent - that many languages he can speak and plan high-profile heists together with a suave personality and such a people person - in HP universe, Head Boy definitely. Oh, and Seeker, cuz, shiny golden ball, hello!

Illya - I was thinking Hufflepuff because hard work and loyalty are traits that rings true for him, but ultimately thinks he's more Gryffindor. Courageous, straightforward, a bit impulsive with his anger issues (that scene in the bathroom in the movie, impulsiveness that could've ruined the whole mission!). Made him a Prefect because he's KGB's finest, he does not slack or a muscle-head with no brains.

Gaby I couldn't get a clear of an idea of her personality as the other two. All I pretty much got from the movie is that she loves cars, is a funny drunk and is not above duplicity or lack bravery. I was actually considering putting her in Slytherin/Gryffindor too, but decided on Ravenclaw in the end because a) I want the 3 characters to be in different houses and b) being such a mechanic geek also requires lots of knowledge and eagerness to learn and c) from what I'd gathered in the movie she picks things up pretty fast so (she's green at the gills but she's by no means stupid) - Ravenclaw it is!

That was my super long author's note, if you stayed with me till now, thanks for reading! Hopefully I keep up this series and not die out again, and hope you enjoyed this little foray with me!

-Kaelyxta

PS. Kudos to those that can guess which year this is in.


	2. Prelude

So, hey, look at that, it's been over a year! Um...sorry. I am a terrible human being that never updates with regularity (or at all I should say). Because, like, life, and work. Yeah... anyway, enjoy!

Side note: I watched Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them when it first came out here down under and now I'm angry at myself for moving the cast of the Man from Uncle forward in the timeline - imagine how much fun there is to be had if they all mingle in their original timeline! Totes feasible. Having said that, I might be planning something extra down the line :P

P.S. As mentioned before, I don't update regularly. What I have noticed on here and on my other stories are readers getting snippy at me for this fact. I write for fun, I do not write this for a living, and have no obligation to continue my stories other than I like to.

PPS: Well done to That Random User for correctly guessing the year! Here is a virtual cookie for you! :D

* * *

It was a dreary day that Illya woke up to. He laid in bed for a moment, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. He stared up at the canopy, lit in a dim red colour from the weak sunlight that filtered through the window, and just breathed. The dorm was mostly quiet, punctuated with the occasional snore from Featherworth and the shifting sheets from the other boys.

Illya sat up in his bed and looked towards his worn duffle bag sitting atop of his trunk, already packed. His clouded mind slowly cleared the longer he stared at the leather. He sighed in irritation. Mysteries does not sit well with him, and Waverly's invitation is shrouded with it.

He swung his feet over the sides of his four poster bed to stand and went over to his trunk. Setting his bag aside, he lifted the lid and took out a pair of tan trousers, dark grey turtleneck and brown trench coat as his change of clothes for the day. He, together with Gaby and Napoleon, are much more used to the muggle clothing due to their upbringing. It certainly helps that the Muggles have much better taste and style in clothing (though Napoleon has definitely taken to some of the more elaborate and dramatic Wizarding clothes like a duck to water). He changed quickly and left with little fanfare (but not before he casted a ward on his trunk with a hex embedded in it - could never be too careful though he doubts anyone is stupid enough to rummage through his belongings). After changing, Illya took his bag and set off for the Prefect's bathrooms, having decided for a morning shower in preparation for the journey ahead. After climbing out the portrait of the Fat Lady, Illya went down two flights of (surprisingly obedient) stairs to the fifth floor, and made a beeline towards the door with the gleaming gold plaque that proclaimed it to be the Prefect's Bathroom next to Boris the Bewildered.

"Morning Glory."

The door remain closed.

Illya sighed irritably. Someone else had beaten him to the bathroom then. Perhaps it's Lee - she's the only other Prefect that would wake up before 9am on a Sunday. Hopefully the Ravenclaw is nearing the end of her bath, he thought as he knocked on the heavy door.

"Yeah?"

A distinctly unfeminine and very familiar voice called out. Illya rolled his eyes. Typical.

"How much longer will you be needing, Cowboy?"

"Ah, Peril! Thinking to take advantage of this lovely bath too, are you?" Solo's much-too-chipper voice replied, muffled by the door in between them. "Although I just got here myself, I'm afraid."

Illya sighed again. "I will come back in half an hour then."

"Nonsense! We have a train to catch - just join me now. More efficient."

Before Illya could say another word the door clicked open an inch. Staring at the open door, he looked down at his father's old watch, showing it's 8 o'clock already and ticking. It might be too rushed to take his bath after Solo since the train for London is at 9...

"Feeling shy, Peril?" Napoleon's amused voice floated out.

Illya shoved open the door, then slammed it closed and re-locked it once he stepped through. Through the multi-coloured bubbles drifting in the air, Illya could see the Slytherin was lounging on one side of the sunken bath, submerged with the water lapping gently against his collarbone, his elbows resting on the edges with his hands dangling into the bubbles. Napoleon quirked a dark brow at him in amusement and looked pointedly at his clothes.

"Better start stripping Peril, else you won't make it to breakfast, much less the train."

"I don't need breakfast." Illya grumped at him, but grudgingly turned his back to the other and pulled his shirt over his head. Napoleon hummed behind him - whether in acknowledgement of his statement or for something else he doesn't know. Opening his bag, he stuffed his shirt in and took out his washcloth. Back still turned, he stripped with military precision and stowed them away into the bag to keep them dry from the damp floor. The washcloth was just long enough to tie around his waist - he'd rather not have the American commenting on his junk if he could help it. Placing the bag down on the floor, Illya turned back to the bath and stepped in.

"You are being surprisingly quiet, Cowboy."

Solo seemed to shake himself out of a daze and grinned lopsidedly at him. "Just admiring the view."

Illya rolled his eyes. Bringing the wet washcloth up, he started scrubbing his neck and arms.

"What do you think Waverly wants to talk to us about?"

Solo shrugged and took his elbows off the bath edge to submerge deeper into the water.

"Hell if I know, Peril. Gaby's uncle has always been secretive."

"More secretive now that he's gotten that promotion of his last year. Chop shop girl doesn't even know where he is half the time."

"So his work must be either highly boring or highly confidential then." Napoleon shrugged. He splashed his face with water for a bit before announcing without fanfare. "I'm going down."

Illya barely had enough time to bring his washcloth back down into the water so it covered his crotch before Napoleon submerged himself to wash his hair. It was barely a second later that Napoleon flailed and brought himself back out, coughing and cursing. Illya raised his eyebrows at him.

"You forgot you can't breathe underwater, Cowboy?"

Napoleon shook his head violently and pointed at the other end of the huge sunken bath.

"Mrytle!" He choked out.

"What?!"

As if on cue, a pearly white form of a girl shot out of the water, giggling girlishly.

"How long have you been down there?" Illya scowled at the ghost.

"Hmmm long enough." Behind her thick glasses, Moaning Mrytle batted her eyelashes at them.

"What did you think you were doing down there, Mrytle?!" Napoleon frowned at the deceased girl, shaking wet hair from the front of his eyes.

"Well, I was in the girl's toilets last night as usual, minding my own business - as usual! When this group of girls came in and disturbed my peace - so I hid down the U-bend but then they had the nerve to flush me! I spent the night in the pipes but got bored, so I came up to talk to the mermaid painting but you were already here and - you're not listening!"

The ghost's outraged shriek startled Napoleon out of his daze, where he had drifted off after he got his lungs free of water. "Well-"

"Ugh, why do I even bother. I've seen better anyway." Mrytle harrumphed at the Slytherin and then threw a pointed glance at Illya. Twirling around, the ghost drifted imperiously through the wall.

Illya was amused to note that when he looked back at Napoleon, his jaw was hanging open in disbelief.

"Did she just..." The brunet spluttered.

"Well, I am taller..." Illya smirked.

"Height is not indicative of its size!"

* * *

"Took you boys long enough!" Gaby said around a mouthful of bread.

"We were in the baths." Illya replied as he sat himself down next to her in the Great Hall. "Mrytle was there."

"Ah." Gaby choked back a laugh at the glum looks the boys were sprouting. "She hid in the Prefect's Bathroom again, did she?"

"Yeah, she -" Napoleon broke off and whipped his head around to stare at her. " 'Again'? How would you know about her haunting the Prefect's Bathroom? Today's the first I've witnessed or heard anything about it - I thought she just sticks to the girl's bathroom on the second floor!"

Gaby stared innocently back at the Slytherin's wide eyes. "Let's just say she's a lonely girl, and not as prickly if you're nice to her."

Before the implication of Gaby's friendly relationship with the ghost settles into Napoleon's brain, Gaby shoved a buttered bread roll into his open mouth and poured pumpkin juice for Illya at the same time. "So, you guys were in the bath together?"

Illya nodded his thanks while he picked up some eggs and sausage for himself. "Yes. Cowboy was already in there. It was the most efficient way considering we don't have long till the train leaves."

That one of the boys could have just sucked it up and used the communal bathrooms in their dorms was left unsaid. Gaby decided to let them off the hook - seeing Illya's ears that red was reward enough. The group didn't take long to eat their breakfast, and in no time the trio were out the castle and into the waiting carriages pulled by the Thestrals, their trunks bobbing along behind them and strapped themselves to the top of the carriages. The three got in, and settled back as the carriage started to move.

"When is Waverly expecting us?" Napoleon asked as he stretched his arms up, then folded his hands behind his head and slouched down in his seat.

"He'll be there at King's Cross." Gaby replied absentmindedly, busy searching for the illusive tube of lipstick that was lost somewhere in her expandable bag. Feeling eyes on her, she looked up and found two pairs of incredulous faces looking at her.

"Waverly will be at the station?" Illya furrowed his brows in suspicion.

"Yes." Gaby huffed. "Why is that so hard to believe? My uncle is picking up his niece who's been away at a boarding school for a long time."

"He stopped picking you up and dropping you off once you hit 15." Napoleon stated flatly. "It's always been either his secretary or the driver since then."

"He picked me up last Christmas!"

"Only because there was a function that was held at The National Gallery and needed you to go with him. Your dress was in his car."

Gaby threw her hands in the air in exasperation. "Fine! Fine, it's weird, but you're not going to get anywhere with me when I don't know what's going on either!"

"It is odd." Illya stated in that usual way of his. Gaby pouted at him to which the Russian stoutly ignored.

"We're just about at the station now anyways." Napoleon noted. Conversation briefly ceased as the carriage rolled up next to the station. The trio got out and levitated their trunks behind them as they hunted for empty seats. They found an empty carriage and deposited their trunks in the overhead storage shelves, then plonked down on the seats - Gaby more elegantly than the boys. As the train started moving, Napoleon started rummaging around his pockets and procured some sickles.

"Not sure about you guys, but I'm positively famished."

"You just had breakfast!" Gaby admonished.

"There is always space for dessert." The Slytherin winked back at her.

The three friends passed the rest of the train ride uneventfully. Napoleon amused himself by experimenting with the sword-fighting lock picks he ended up getting from the last Hogsmede trip, while Gaby and Illya played 3 rounds of chess - before Gaby got frustrated at losing in fast succession to Illya and demanded they play Exploding Snaps instead. Many hours, a pair of hands littered with tiny cuts and two pairs of singed eyebrows later, the trio find themselves waiting on a long bench with their belongings in front of the ever-busy King's Cross station for their ride.

"He is late." Illya stated half an hour later.

"it is rather unusual..." Gaby fidgeted while squinting at the dark clouds gathering in the sky. "Uncle Waverly is almost never late."

Before she even finished the sentence, a stately black car pulled up smoothly in front of them, the two parked cars that was there parted ways and the curb magically lengthened to make way for it. The traffic continued on, not one muggle in the busy street batted an eye.

"I think he's here." Napoleon drawled as the driver side door opened, and a man in a steel grey three piece suit stepped out. The man had short, dark hair gently coifed to the side, a pair of modern horn rim glasses, and a stern countenance. His face broke into a welcoming smile, however, when he saw his much younger cousin that he fondly look to as his niece, and walked towards them with his arms out by his sides.

"Gaby, my dear, how are you?"

The girl leapt to her feet and embraced Waverly in a quick hug. "Good! I'm very well!"

She leaned back and frowned up at the older man. "You were quite late, however - what's happened?"

"Ah, nothing to worry about, my dear girl - terribly sorry about that, just got held back by some work." Waverly stepped back, and held his hand out to Illya, then to Napoleon, for hand shakes. "How are you gentlemen? Well, I hope."

"Yes, Mr Waverly." Illya replied, standing for the handshake.

Napoleon, on the other hand, shook the older man's hand distractedly by a detail he noted on Waverly's tie, and stared.

"Mr Waverly... is that a spell scorch on your tie?"


End file.
